


A Glimpse Into the Future We Share

by unxpctedlygreat (Yurika_Schiffer)



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Post-AM Dimilix are sent back in time, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 12:33:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29634690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yurika_Schiffer/pseuds/unxpctedlygreat
Summary: The older Dimitri and the older Felix are close, which is already a surprise. But then Dimitri finds out just exactlyhowclose they are and figures out what it means for him and Felix.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 3
Kudos: 51





	A Glimpse Into the Future We Share

**Author's Note:**

> This is silly and was written at like 2am but I do like it, so I'm sharing! ♥
> 
> For some context, AM!Dimitri and AM!Felix have been sent back into the past and they're just enjoying the vacations until they can get back into their own time.

The older Dimitri and Felix have agreed to join them on their next skirmish with the Professor, saying it would always be safer not to be around so many people they know. Dimitri thinks it’s less about that and more because they're looking for a fight. He watches them speak excitedly, the older Dimitri showing off the silver lance the Professor gave him. Dimitri honestly thinks it’s a terrible idea to hand him a silver weapon, as they are more fragile, but he doesn’t speak up. He has no interest in accidentally making a fool of himself in front of his friends, the professor and their older selves.

Felix has no such qualms.

“There’s no point in giving that beast such a weapon, he’ll just break it.”

The older Dimitri turns with a half-smug, half-offended look. “I’ll have you know, I haven’t broken a weapon in quite some time now.” The older Felix snorts at his side and brings up a hand to hide his smile. The older Dimitri pouts— _pouts_ — at him. “It is the truth, Felix!”

“Say that to the blacksmith, who had to fix your sword again after last time.”

“The sword was fine when I left,” the older Dimitri says petulantly. Dimitri doesn’t know whether to be embarrassed at his older self’s behavior or be amazed that he grew up to become so seemingly carefree.

The older Felix fixes his older self with a look full of mischief. It’s such an unexpected sight that Dimitri trips on a root. Thankfully, no one notices. They’re all watching the older them talk.

“You didn’t exactly have much time to check before you had to run out and meet Viscount Kleiman, did you?”

The older Dimitri opens his mouth. The older Dimitri shuts his mouth. He blushes and gives the older Felix a miserable look. “Perhaps you are right, be—” He pauses suddenly, like the next words he had in mind weren’t the ones he should speak. “I may not have had a lot of time after our sparring session that day.”

The older Felix hums, eyes still full of mirth. The older Dimitri clears his throat, turning back to Felix and the others, his cheeks still pink. “All of this to say, I can handle this lance just fine. There is no need to worry.”

Felix scoffs, but Dimitri notices he doesn’t counter this as he’d have expected. He also doesn’t look away from their older selves, though he’s glaring in their direction.

Dimitri genuinely can’t tell what Felix thinks of this whole situation. Ever since King Dimitri and his right hand have arrived in their time, Dimitri hasn’t been able to read Felix. He’s not like the others who have tried to get them to talk about the future they come from, instead having remained away from the group every time it happened. Even Dimitri had hazarded a question— to which he hadn’t gotten an answer, only a mysterious smile— and he’s certain the Professor also had.

Felix has been keeping his distance from their older selves.

At the same time, Dimitri has seen their older selves look at him from afar, knowing looks in their eyes, as though they expected as much from him. Dimitri wonders if Felix has guessed something of the future. He wonders if their future selves know he has guessed it.

He wonders what Felix might have guessed about their future. He wants to know it too.

  
  


The skirmish goes so well and is over so fast that Dimitri can’t shake the feeling they might be attacked suddenly. It’s silly, given that he knows their swift victory is entirely due to the skills and experience of the older Dimitri and the older Felix. The two of them work as a team better than Dimitri could have ever dreamed of. Even Felix seems impressed.

The older Dimitri is currently _preening_ in front of the older Felix. He sounds so excited about routing off those small bandits. Dimitri sees Felix frowning at this, but his older self is merely looking amused at the older Dimitri’s antics.

The dynamic between their older selves leaves Dimitri utterly confused— and shamefully hopeful. They've clearly made up, that much is obvious. They’ve been talking constantly since they arrived here, and not once were they arguing to the point of one storming off. They’re playful in their discussions and Dimitri can’t remember the last time he’s seen Felix smile as much as his older self. It’s jarring. But it leaves him longing for this.

If there’s truly any hope of rekindling their friendship, Dimitri wants it. Preferably sooner than later— but their older selves refused to say when they’d gotten close again.

He looks at Felix. He’s been forced by Sylvain to come and rest, though Dimitri knows Felix would probably rather they head back to the monastery now. He wonders if Felix and Sylvain are still this close in the future. The thought makes his chest feel tighter, though he elects not to think about it.

His eyes slide back to their older selves. The older Dimitri has stepped closer to the older Felix and is whispering in his ear. From here, Dimitri can’t make out his older self’s expression because of the eyepatch he wears. The older Felix’s face betrays nothing as well. What does catch his attention, though, is the way his older self’s hand rests upon the older Felix’s arm. It’s a gentle and light touch at the older Felix’s elbow, just shy of beckoning him closer. It’s probably the most intimate touch Dimitri has seen them indulge in.

It marks a stark contrast with the way they’d kept themselves close to each other yet never _touching_. This feels significant. Dimitri can’t bring himself to look away from them until they part and the older Felix shakes his head with a smile before turning to look at their group.

  
  


He doesn’t mean to find the circlet.

He certainly doesn’t intend to spend ten minutes looking at it while the only screams he can hear in his head are his own.

He was asked by his older self to come pick up something for him in the room he and the older Felix share and Dimitri, who’d seen no point in refusing to help, went. He didn’t find the book he was looking for where his older self had said he would find it, so of course, he looked somewhere else.

He didn’t expect to find a golden circlet in one of the drawers.

It doesn’t belong to his older self. He knows it doesn’t, because his older self wears a crown already, since he is king. He knows it can’t be, because the drawer contains the older Felix’s clothes.

The biggest evidence it isn’t King Dimitri’s is, perhaps, the crest of Fraldarius engraved in it. There is also the crest of Blaiddyd, on the other side of the simple blue stone adorning it.

Dimitri desperately tries to come up with an explanation to this other than what is taunting him. If he doesn’t, he’s not sure his heart can handle the revelation.

The door opens behind him and he jumps, fumbling with the circlet still in his hands. He hides it behind his back and stares, wide eyed, at the older Dimitri who has just come in.

“Ah,” his older self says. It sounds loaded with meaning.

His older self closes the door behind him and locks it. He approaches Dimitri slowly, eyeing the open drawer and Dimitri’s stiff posture.

“I did tell Felix this was a terrible place to hide it,” he continues. When he walks around Dimitri to grab the circlet, Dimitri lets it go. He brings it to eye level and Dimitri watches as warmth fills his visible eye. “It took four moons to get him to wear it,” he says, glancing at Dimitri.

Dimitri swallows, throat dry and heart thumping hard in his chest. His older self can’t be saying what he thinks he is. There is no way— this is beyond rekindling their friendship. This is— something Dimitri hadn’t even considered. And yet the idea settles sweetly in his mind and heart already.

“I— You can’t mean that…”

But his older self nods, thumb fondly rubbing the golden metal of the circlet. “We’re married. Felix will give me an earful for telling you, but it isn’t like I could explain this any other way, now could I?” He chuckles. “I suppose at least now, you’re even. You and the Felix of this time.”

“He knows?” Dimitri asks, slightly terrified at the idea that Felix might know. He still hasn’t been able to guess his opinion on their older selves. If he knows they’re married— how did he react?

“My Felix tells me he probably guessed it on the first day we arrived here. If not that we are married, then at least that we are seeing each other. I do wonder what he would say about the circlet,” his older self says, looking at it again.

Dimitri feels a bit faint, but he asks, “You said it took four moons?”

He doesn’t know what to make of all of this and he can’t wrap his mind around the idea. He and Felix, married.

The older Dimitri hums in confirmation. “He kept saying it was stupid and that he didn’t need it. We’re still trying to convince him that ‘Your Highness’ is the proper form of address for the prince consort.”

Prince consort. Felix, prince of Faerghus. It sounds so unreal that Dimitri can’t help the laugh that escapes him. It’s no wonder the older Felix won’t accept the title. Dimitri can’t imagine Felix reacting well to being told he is prince now. They had had plenty of childish fantasies about their futures back then, and in exactly none of them was Felix a prince eventually. He was always Dimitri’s knight, his shield. His right-hand.

But then again, at the time, Dimitri wouldn’t have imagined that he could, someday, marry a man. He’d heard all about the need for a queen once he would be king and it had never crossed his mind that perhaps it wouldn’t be one of the ladies of the kingdom that would stand by his side as he ruled. The fantasies had reflected that.

His older self puts the circlet back in the drawer, pushing it close after a last fond look at it.

“I’m certain Felix has never imagined our lives would turn out this way,” Dimitri says, laughing a little still. But then, the older Dimitri pauses and Dimitri can feel the way he’s gone ever so slightly tense. He gapes at him. “He _has_?!”

“I can neither affirm nor deny this,” King Dimitri says diplomatically. It’s answer enough in itself. “Perhaps it would be wise to talk to your Felix.”

  
  


Dimitri doesn’t think it would be wise to talk to Felix about this. He cannot picture this going well. Even if they grow to be close— even if they end up married at some point in their lives, Felix as he is now most certainly doesn’t want to talk about this with Dimitri.

He realizes now that his older self probably knows a Felix who is more open than the one Dimitri sees every day, which probably makes discussions about feelings a lot easier. As it is, Dimitri knows he will be rebuked as soon as he asks to speak to Felix.

Or so he assumes.

He eventually goes to speak to Felix, because despite the anxiety that grips at him at the prospect of being immediately rejected, there is also longing plaguing him. It’s terrible. Just a few days before, he was blissfully unaware that he could want this. He’d been able to focus on his research and training. Now it is all he can think of.

When he finds him, Felix is whispering angrily to his older self. The older Felix snorts loudly and rolls his eyes, before his gaze falls on Dimitri coming closer. He stands up and walks away, leaving Felix looking outraged at being so thoroughly insulted.

When Felix spots him, he still looks furious. But he surprisingly doesn’t tell Dimitri off right away.

“What do you want, boar?”

There are several answers that come to Dimitri’s mind, but he is not fool enough to voice them so suddenly. Though he supposes they may get the message across better than he’ll manage once he gets Felix alone in a more private place.

“May we speak? In private.”

He expects Felix to refuse vehemently. Felix agrees.

It was the plan, but it doesn’t mean Dimitri has any idea of what he is going to tell Felix. He didn’t think this far.

Knowing Felix, being direct would work a lot better than trying to work his way around it. But how direct can he be without Felix closing up immediately? He fears that a single wrong word will have Felix walk away from him.

They’ve gone to Dimitri’s room, where they’re less likely to be overheard. It feels far too intimate for what he wants to talk about but there aren't a lot of places where they can have some privacy.

He’s still trying to figure out a way to get his thoughts out when Felix, who is leaning against Dimitri’s desk, sighs.

“It’s about _them_ , isn’t it?” Dimitri can only blink at him. “He told me you found out,” Felix says, “but I’m not convinced you understand.”

His shoulders are tense, held high about his head. He’s on the defensive, Dimitri realizes. Afraid? He’s glaring at Dimitri but there is a distinct uncertainty in his eyes.

He isn’t denying that their future selves being married is a possibility. He isn’t rejecting the idea that they could be involved.

But he doesn’t know if Dimitri does.

Does Dimitri understand? Until a few minutes ago, he couldn’t have told it for sure. He can, now. He understands.

“I do,” he tells Felix, stepping closer to him. “I want that future with you.”

Felix’s eyes widen, like this isn’t what he expected Dimitri to answer. Dimitri refuses to entertain the idea that he could have rejected Felix. The vulnerability he sees in Felix’s amber gaze makes the thought impossible to bear. He’d rather have his own heart broken a thousand times before breaking Felix’s.

“You—” Felix starts, but Dimitri goes on.

“I saw the circlet,” he says, looking Felix in the eyes. He hears his breath hitch and steps closer still. “Your circlet.”

Felix’s eyes are impossibly wide. Dimitri cups one of his cheeks and regrets instantly that he never removes his gloves. Felix’s cheeks are colored pink and he’s certain they must feel warm. He wants to feel that warmth.

“I would give anything to see you wearing it,” he mutters, leaning in to rest his forehead against Felix’s.

Felix pushes a hand to his face before he can achieve that. But he doesn’t push Dimitri away. Only keeps him at a respectable distance. It’s the closest they’ve been in years, barring spars.

“Preposterous. I can’t stand you. You’re— unbelievable.”

“As unbelievable as the fact that you’ll be the prince of Faerghus in the future?” Dimitri asks, laughing against the palm on his face.

Felix takes it back and looks at him bewildered. Dimitri feels giddy.

“What?”

Dimitri nods seriously, though he knows he’s grinning. “As husband to the King, you will naturally become prince consort. It isn’t exactly the way I pictured our future, but you did, didn’t you?”

Felix narrows his eyes at him. “He told you?” he hisses. Dimitri only laughs.

“He refused to tell me anything, but it wasn’t hard to guess once I knew what to look for in our memories.” He crowds Felix against the desk, leaning in again. “I wish I’d known.”

This time, Felix pushes him away and steps away from him. He crosses his arms and turns his back on Dimitri.

Before Dimitri can wonder if he’s gone too far, Felix says, in a voice low enough that if Dimitri wasn’t listening, he wouldn’t hear him, “It’s not like I could have told you.” He shakes his head. “Glenn had made it clear that I could only ever be your knight, nothing more. I didn’t like it, but I wasn’t naïve enough to think it was untrue.”

It doesn’t lack reason, Dimitri has to admit. Especially back then, Dimitri’s future had been all written out before him. But Duscur happened, and whatever was written had been flooded away by a sea of blood and deaths.

He can’t see why they couldn’t rewrite their future together. After losing so much, he doesn’t want to have to give up on Felix, too. Not now that he knows they can be happy together.

“I don’t want you to only be my knight,” Dimitri says. He realizes how it comes across when Felix startles and looks at him with wide eyes, cheeks darkening again. “It isn’t a proposal, obviously—” he stammers. “We’re… too young for that. And there are plenty of matters to see to before it would even be right of me to propose— but, ah. I suppose the feeling is the same.” He rubs the back of his neck, embarrassed.

“You’re an idiot,” Felix tells him. But glancing up at him, it’s obvious he’s not being demeaning.

Dimitri may just dare to call it fondness.


End file.
